New Release | Frenzied Fate, A Dragon Rider Fantasy Romance by Rochelle L. Wilcox #romantasy #darkfantasyromance #fantasyromance #newrelease #mustread #bookboost
- N. N. Light
- Jun 26
- 6 min read
Title: Frenzied Fate, A Dragon Rider Fantasy Romance
Author: Rochelle L. Wilcox
Genre: Dark Romantasy, Fantasy Romance
Book Blurb:
The Queen’s eyes are everywhere.
Sifa and her dragon can’t hide in Vanatia.
Will they find safety or a sword in the enemy’s lands?
Sifa’s free but she won’t find refuge here.
Desperate to keep Astarot from the queen’s clutches, Sifa and Fhord seek help from Vanatia’s rival kingdom. But when the capricious monarch demands an unexpected bounty for his support, the rider and her beast find themselves alone in a strange land facing an impossible task.
Fhord’s dragon is paying for his betrayal.
Aching to protect Sifa from brutal captivity in Vanatia, Fhord convinces her to stay behind as he chases the queen’s most closely-held secret. While he’s spent years searching in vain for the key to controlling Vanatia’s dragons, he risks losing both his beast and his mate if he fails this time.
Resolved to pay any price to protect Astarot, Sifa accepts the monarch’s charge and hunts for a wild dragon to tame. Fhord’s chasing answers in Vanatia, desperate to gather essential allies to wrest Tindera, and everyone else, from the queen’s grip.
Can Sifa and Fhord survive long enough to find the fighters they’ll need to save his dragon and liberate Vanatia from perpetual tyranny?
Frenzied Fate is the thrilling second book in the fantasy romance series, Tales of the Vanir. With breathtaking battles, sexy banter and sizzling spice, riders and their dragons fight for the right to be free.
Frenzied Fate has an HFN ending with a mild cliffhanger, and will appeal to readers of Fourth Wing (Rebecca Yarros), Crescent City (Sarah J. Maas) and When the Moon Hatched (Sarah A. Parker).
Author's Note: Frenzied Fate has dark elements, including violence and graphic torture of people and dragons, as well as sexual assault and depravity (but not between the main characters), and genocide (of elves). It includes open-door spice and frequent profanity.
The complete series is written and being rapid released at five-week intervals: Sacred Struggle on May 22; Frenzied Fate on June 26; Divine Dilemma on July 31; and Mythical Menace on September 4.
Excerpt:
His tongue wakes me.
Not the one that consumed me in the dead of night, dragging sensations from my body I didn’t know I could experience with caresses that left me hovering on the precipice between pain and pleasure, restraint and release, anticipation and ecstasy. No, that tongue is a hint of pink barely visible between the full lips of the male snoring gently by my side. A strand of his dark, wavy hair falls across his forehead and I have to stop myself from reaching out and stroking it away, or tugging down the blanket to expose the tattoos covering his broad, firm chest.
Gods, he’s beautiful. My cheeks grow hot just thinking of all the places his tongue explored and aroused as we pretended we’re safe—pushing aside for a moment the constant threat of being found by this country’s ruler, the cruel Dróttning Nerthus—before we fell into a deep sleep, the exhaustion of a long day of travel finally overtaking us.
This tongue touches me in a different way, tentative but certain, as if the dragon trailing it across my arm doesn’t want to wake me but knows, deep in that place where our souls have bonded, that I’ll welcome it when he does. His tongue greets me in the innocent way dragons do with their riders when they want the connection only a taste of skin can provide.
Hungry, Astarot says in the silence of my mind. As it always does, his single word relays a wealth of information. He desperately needs another meal and knows he can’t risk leaving this cave without me checking first to make sure it’s safe. But he slept well, his health continuing to improve.
My dragon told me before he collapsed last night that the trip to Revalle and back drained him, pushing him farther and faster than his injured body was ready to go. He should be able to fly again soon, but Fhord thinks it’ll be another week or more before he can carry any weight. So we’re riding Fhord’s horse Sigurd and Astarot is walking with us. For now.
It didn’t help that we drove both beasts hard yesterday, desperate to get as far away as we could from the dragons’ Nest—the prison from which I’d escaped with Fhord’s help—and the Dróttning. Fhord told me that when they’re awake, he and the Dróttning can sense each other if they’re a viku or so apart. That connection is tied to their conscious minds and disappears when they sleep, thank the gods. We couldn’t risk stopping and giving her a chance to catch up, so we didn’t. I have lots of questions for Fhord about his relationship with the Dróttning, but they’ll have to wait. We need to find someplace safe first. If we can.
Twice in our race here, her warriors almost found us, forcing us to hide in caverns that barely held my enormous dragon. But the Dróttning never got close enough to follow the link between her and Fhord. We evaded the searchers and managed to reach a cave large and secluded enough to risk falling asleep. So far, it seems like the risk was worthwhile. We all needed the rest. I’ll know for sure when I step outside to see if anyone waits for us.
I’m careful when I untangle from Fhord’s arms and legs, hoping not to wake him yet. When he rolls to his other side and draws in a deep breath, exhaling in a loud snort, I hold back a laugh before reaching out to stroke Astarot’s nose.
My dragon and I sit there for a moment, savoring the peace of the morning and the gods’ gift of each other, my forehead resting lightly on his snout as my hands continue to drift over his silky feathers. I’m still astounded by the majesty of this dragon who has claimed me. His red and black feathers cover a body that reaches seventy feet or more and must weigh twenty thousand pounds, even without the weight he lost during the long months of his torture.
Hungry, Astarot reminds me as his stomach releases a grumble that really should have dragged Fhord from sleep. Gods, he must be exhausted. It finally caught up with him.
Nodding, I stand to get dressed and tug my boots on before leading Astarot toward the entrance, gesturing to him to wait while I tiptoe outside. It’s nearly dawn and the morning is crisp and chill, with enough moonlight to cast a soft light over the trees around us. My breath huffs out in a whiff of smoke, hovering to remind me that we’ve traveled far to the north already. I don’t know yet what Fhord has in mind—where he thinks we can hide from the Dróttning—but he promised we’ll talk about it today. I plan to hold him to it.
Casting out my senses, which have been shockingly acute since I bonded with Astarot, I search for any movement or scent or sound that might reveal a hidden danger. The Dróttning’s warriors are well-trained and certainly well-hidden, and too many can shield their minds from mine, but I have to try anyway. Maybe they’re tired and sloppy in these early hours of the morning, after a long night of diligence. When I find nothing, I risk a step out of the cave, sending out a prayer to the gods that nobody waits to plunge an arrow into my chest.
After a minute or so, I take another step, then slowly start to explore the area, revealing myself more and more in the hope of exposing any threat before Astarot emerges. Finally, after another fifteen minutes of searching, I decide it’s safe enough.
Come, I tell my dragon.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
Book I, Sacred Struggle, will be a BookBub Featured Deal, and discounted to $.99 from June 26 through June 30, to celebrate Frenzied Fate’s release.
Author Biography:
Rochelle Wilcox writes stories about love and angst and human drama, which happen to include some elves and dragons and gods.
Rochelle was born and raised in Las Vegas, where she learned at an early age the value of fantasy and escape. Raised by a single mom, Rochelle spent more time in casinos than most adults. She and her husband decided to leave the desert behind and raise their sons in Northern California, where they spent as much time on the water with their boys as they could.
Despite her lifelong passion for story-telling, Rochelle’s path took her to law school and then to a practice focused on media law and appeals. But her love of writing wasn’t sated with briefs bound by legal principles and a fealty to facts. And so she set to paper the story that had been playing in her mind for years, based on the Norse mythology she loved as a child. Rochelle retired from her legal practice in 2022 to travel and write.
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